


Prelude

by Deltachild



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: sjficathon, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-26
Updated: 2009-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deltachild/pseuds/Deltachild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two strangers meet in a bar, starting and finishing their story in a nearby motel, or so they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Written for achairsomewhere in the sjficathon using the prompt: “pre-sg-1 fic, sam and jack meet before knowing about the stargate and then go through to RST” . Sorry to say that Sam certainly knows about the Stargate in this, but Jack doesn’t. 
> 
> Set before the events of the original Stargate Movie.

From the moment she steps through the door, with a sceptical look and a pause before she carries on walking, Jack thinks that she is beautiful. She looks a little out of place but then everyone who comes here is looking for something slightly out of their comfort zone.

At first he doesn’t feel bad for finding her beautiful but, as it dawns on him just who she reminds him of, a flicker of guilt burns in his mind. So it makes perfect sense to gesture to the stool next to him and offer to buy her a drink. She smiles at him hesitatingly, not quite creasing her eyes, and accepts his offer.

***

One drink turns to two and Jack decides that her eyes are the bluest things that he has ever seen in his life. They may be framed by dark circles and tinged by the weariness that her whole body is carrying, but they are so alive. A bright intelligence shines behind her eyes and they unconsciously, he hopes, flirt with him even though the rest of her posture is guarded. It is the spark of life in them that makes her look nothing like Sarah.

***

Her name is Samantha, Sam, and she is nothing like Sarah, at least not the Sarah that can no longer bring herself to look Jack in the eyes. Sam engages him in conversation, laughs at his lame jokes and tells him all about her day. He knows that her boss is the ‘biggest jerk in the world’, how she is being sent away from the project that she has dedicated the last two years of her life to just as a breakthrough is on the cards, and how pissed off that has made her.

***

Sam is a scientist, and Jack hates scientists but he cannot quite bring himself to hate her. There is something about her, something magnetic that he cannot tear himself away from. It is not just a baseline attraction, he does not get that anymore, there is just something utterly enthralling about her. 

Before too long he confesses that he is 200km away from home, staying in a cheap motel and feeling like an idiot for running away from his problems.

(Which isn’t exactly a lie. He is 200km away from home but it’s not because of a ‘little tiff’, it’s because almost a year ago his beautiful son shot himself and the echoes of that fatal shot are still echoing in the ears of those left behind. He is an idiot, his problems aren’t going to be solved by running away, but neither are they going to be solved by sharing his ‘feelings’ with a grief councillor.)

*** 

The diamond on her finger catches his attention as she brushes a strand of hair back with a sigh of frustration. Years of sussing people out in an instant and he noticed her eyes before noticing her engagement ring. He blames the beer and moves on with steering the conversation away from himself.

***

Her fiancé sounds like an asshole but Jack reckons that Sam’s already got that figured out. He has never been able to understand why women stay with people they know are idiots... then he thinks of Sarah and how the word ‘divorce’ has never fallen from her lips. And just like that Sarah is back in his head along with the accompanying stabs of guilt and pain.

Sam pushes another beer towards him and it takes just a second before he slips out of his darkness to give her an appreciative smile. Something akin to concern flickers across her face and to distract her he makes a quip about the bottle label being askew and takes a large gulp of his new drink.

***

It is disturbingly easy to compartmentalise his thoughts, even through the slight haziness he is experiencing. While Sam has been in the toilet Jack has managed to tuck Sarah, and everything that goes with her, into the darkest corner of his mind. Nothing wrong is going on here, nothing inappropriate. Just two tired strangers sharing a couple of beers and making easy conversation.

(Except conversation hasn’t been this easy for Jack in a while and it is becoming increasingly difficult to justify why he is still talking to Sam.)

***

Her arms are around his neck and her lips are whisper soft against his cheek. It is all for show but he hasn’t been touched in so long that he is almost overwhelmed. As the guys trying to chat Sam up get the idea and move along he almost stops her from retreating back to her own stool. 

She buys him a beer to thank him, even though he tells her she does not have to. As she pays he wonders why she didn’t just point to her engagement ring to dissuade the guys, until he realises that it’s not there anymore and he bites his tongue to stop himself from asking her why.

***

That whisper of a staged kiss has done something to the way they are with each other. She has started touching him when she talks, just a slight touch to his knee or arm but each touch, in Jack’s mind, lasts a little longer than it should. Their smiles have become more genuine too and her whole face lights up whenever he smiles in response to something she says.

There is no way she could have missed the wedding ring on his finger, except his ring is in the glove compartment of his truck. Somewhere along US87 last night he had taken it off and despite regretting it in the morning he has yet to put it back on. He is pretty sure that he said ‘I had an argument with my wife’ earlier on but now he is not so sure.

***

Sam is a First Lieutenant in the Air Force and it is too late for Jack to think about what that means. Military personnel are not exactly a rarity in the ‘Springs but he had enough of playing in that particular sandbox months ago. 

Then again, Sam does not appear to be the sort of military that drives him up the wall and although he refuses to think upon it too long, he doesn’t think there is much that could persuade him to leave right now.

***

Her lips are on his mouth this time and neither one of them are pretending now. Jack’s conflicting emotions are threatening to tear him apart, but she is warm and so very alive, and she wants him. 

They are as hungry for each other as two desperate teenagers, hands roaming everywhere with no thought given to their current position. The taxi driver coughs and taps the display indicating the fare he is expecting. Jack fishes his wallet as Sam giggles breathlessly against his neck; he cannot help but laugh right along with her.

***

Sam laughs again at the filthy look the receptionist gives them as they stumble into the lift, and he’s about to join in before she pushes him against the wall. She kisses him with enough force that it steals the breath from his lungs and wipes every negative thought from his brain. He wants nothing more than to feel every single naked inch of her pressed against him, rather than the cold lift glass against his clothed back.

Jack’s fingers skim along the sliver of exposed flesh between her shirt and jeans; the moan Sam elicits is low and long. The sound is still moving through him as they get to her door.

***

Things move in a desperate and rushed blur for Jack until there is one frozen moment amidst the frenzy. 

Sam is above him and he is poised to enter her, close enough to feel the heat coming from her core. His eyes travel up from where they are about to join, across the toned planes of her stomach and through the separated valley of her breasts. He’s momentarily distracted by her dog tags, their condemning metallic gleam judging him from between her breasts before flicking his eyes up to her face. Their eyes lock, and there is no hint of shame or embarrassment between them. 

Even in the dim lighting of the hotel room Sam’s eyes define her, twin blue orbs that appear to almost ripple as she gazes down at him. He blinks, the moment is gone, but it leaves them with a sudden charge of raw electricity. 

Jack thrusts up just as Sam drops her hips.

***

(Then there is nothing but wet heat, fluid movements, escalating sensations, frantic breaths and a long, pure moment of ecstasy.) 

***

Side-by-side they lie, with their skin slowly turning clammy at the points where they cannot quite let go of each other. 

(Her head on his shoulder. His arm around her back. Her arm across his chest. His lips against her brow. Their legs entwined.)

Alcohol and satiation catch-up with both of them, and as frenetic heartbeats slow to dull thuds they walk the boundary between waking and sleeping. Part of Jack is telling him that he should get up and go, but the compulsion is easily cancelled by the overwhelming urge to remain. 

Jack used to be a soldier; he knows when a fight is not worth fighting.

***

When Jack wakes it is to an empty bed, a hastily scribbled note and a glass of water with a couple of painkillers next to it. The guilt hits him before the nausea, and neither will be affected by the quick fix offered to him by the painkillers.

Sam is gone, he dimly remembers discussing the inconvenience of having to use commercial airlines for work flights last night, and he is thankful.

He shrugs the guilt off, moving it to lurk around in the back of his mind; there are more practical things to deal with – such as getting out of Sam’s room and finding a route back to his motel.

As he gets up off the bed a muted memory of Sam stroking his hair flickers through his mind, but it doesn’t feel like a proper memory and it slips away in the maelstrom of his thoughts. Jack knows that if he starts reminiscing now that he may never leave this room, and that the guilt of his indulgent interlude will only drive him further away from his real home. The only viable option is to return to his motel, put his wedding ring on and drive home to the woman that he married. He loves Sarah. He loves her.

Sam, as beautiful and brilliant as she was, belongs to a world that he has sworn never to be a part of again. With her intelligence and personality she seems pre-destined to succeed, making Jack certain that last night will turn out to be her last visit to that bar.

(As he leaves the room, closing the door behind him, he promises that he will never look for her.)


End file.
